


Happy, Happy Birthday, Baby

by titania522



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Comfort, Gen, Smut, birthday fanfiction, everlark fanfiction, katniss birthday, may 8th
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-08
Updated: 2015-05-08
Packaged: 2018-03-29 15:33:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3901528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/titania522/pseuds/titania522
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Katniss breaks it off with Peeta, can her birthday be the thing that brings them back together again?  Fic in honor of Katniss Everdeen's birthday (May 8th).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy, Happy Birthday, Baby

Happy, happy, birthday baby  
No, I can't call you my baby  
Seems like years ago we met  
On a day I can't forget.  
  
'Cause that's when we fell in love  
Do you remember the names we had for each other  
You were my pretty, I was your baby  
How could we say goodbye?  
  
Hope I didn't spoil your birthday  
I know I'm acting kinda crazy  
So I'll close this note to you  
With good luck and wishes too.

**-from _Happy, Happy Birthday Baby_ by Ronnie Milsap**

 

 

**Coffee**

Katniss was still pissed when she woke up.

It had been more than a week but every time she thought of her latest argument with Peeta, she just wanted to fling furniture around the room. Luckily for her apartment, she didn’t give vent to those feelings, but went about her day in a state of dour irritation, taking her heartbreak out on the people unfortunate enough to cross her path instead.

Katniss grew up with Peeta. She knew him as well as anyone could. He was good and kind, in a way that disarmed her with his complete selflessness. He loved her passionately, of that she had no doubt.  He would do anything for her. He was willing to climb mountains and fight wild animals with his bare hands for her sake. She knew this.

But there was one thing he couldn’t do and it was the one thing she needed. The one thing that anyone in her situation would need. And when Katniss realized he wouldn’t do this for her, she had no choice but to ask him not to call her anymore.

Katniss moved about her apartment as if wading through mud. She felt slow and sluggish and it was only because she had a report due that she didn’t just turn around and go right back to bed. After all, today was her birthday, and she would be spending it alone. So she might as well go to work and be a responsible adult instead of wallowing in her pajamas, swimming in a vat of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream and pinned to Netflix all day.

The notification on her phone alerted her to a message. Opening it, she saw that it was Prim, wishing her a Happy Birthday. There were messages from her mother, Johanna, Gale, Finnick and Annie…everyone who meant something to her.  Everyone except one.

She dropped the phone back in her bag and put the finishing touches on her braid. Just thinking about her last discussion with Peeta set her blood on fire:

_“That’s why I hate to go with you to your family’s house!” she shouted as she paced the living room._

_“I just don’t want to argue with her,” he pleaded defensively._

_“Yeah, but that just means she gets a pass to say whatever she wants to me.  You not protesting makes it seem like you agree with her,” she countered._

_“You know I don’t agree with her!  And I would never let her insult you outright!” Peeta became angrier, his cheeks flushing pink, the color running up to his hairline._

_“But she makes all these snide comments and you just let her! And that last one…she practically called me a wh---,”_

_“She didn’t mean that!   Even she wouldn’t call you that!” He ran his hand through his hair in frustration, making the thick locks stand on end.  “I don’t care about my mother or her opinion of you any way,” he stepped up to Katniss, forcing her to stop. “I love you. I’m going to do what I want whether she approves or not.”_

_“That’s not the point, Peeta!  Sometimes, you have to stand up for the people you care about. And you never stand up to her for me. You never once put your foot down and said ‘I won’t tolerate you treating my girlfriend that way.’  What you needed to say was ‘Katniss and I are moving in together. I’m not asking for your approval.’ No, you tell me instead to ‘ignore her’ or ‘don’t mind her comments.’  So she just keeps on because no one stops her. And I’m tired of it. I’m not going to spend the rest of my life dodging her verbal missiles.”_

_Peeta stared wide-eyed at her, the flushed color of anger draining from his cheeks. “Wh..What are you trying to say?”_

_Katniss’ voice caught as she spoke. She meant it, didn’t she? Meant what she was about to say? “Maybe we need some time off.”_

_He stood in the middle of the kitchen wearing a stunned expression like a wild animal who’d been snuck up on by a predator.  The look was so wounded, Katniss almost took the words back but her anger girded her and made her strong._

_“Katniss…”_

_“Please, Peeta. We’ve talked about this before and we keep finding ourselves in the same place. I don’t want to do this anymore.  Please, just go.”  She walked to the door and opened it before she lost her nerve. This was the right thing to do. She knew it, even if she felt a hole opening in her chest that threatened to suck everything around her into darkness._

_“Katniss…don’t do this…”_

_“I said go!” she said, more forcefully than she intended. “If you don’t go, I will.”_

_Peeta’s face twisted in an attitude of agony, as if someone had speared him through the chest but he did as he was told and after a few moments, leaving Katniss, alone in her small apartment, holding on to the last shreds of her self-control until the clicking of the downstairs door.  Then she let herself fall into a heap of sorrow._

Katniss shook herself from her thoughts, collecting the last of her things before heading out the door.  As she stepped over the threshold, she almost tripped on the white bakery bag perched on the welcome mat and just barely kept herself from falling.  She bent down to pick it up and opened it, the scent of hot coffee and cheese buns almost brought back the tears she thought she’d conquered. She hadn’t had breakfast – she hadn’t had any appetite at all these last few days – so the aroma wound itself into a fist that knocked her right in the stomach.  She involuntarily breathed in the smell and, without thinking, took one of the cheese buns and popped it into her mouth, the size just right for a bite. The cheese melted over her tongue like a warm hug, the burst of herbs and butter filling her palate with comfort and pleasure and she moaned despite herself before she recognized whose hand would have certainly been responsible for this gift.

“Peeta,” she whispered, her indignation returning to her.  She searched the bag and, sure enough, on the side of the white, butter-stained paper bag was a note written in permanent black marker,

 

_“I would have served you in bed, if I had been there. Happy birthday – P.”_

Despite her anger, her heart melted in her chest, filling her with a powerful desire to see him, a need so strong, her knees almost buckled beneath the weight of it. But before she could get carried away with the feeling, she steeled herself, narrowing her eyes at the bag. Gripping her coffee (for her anger was not of sufficient proportions to sacrifice her precious cheese buns), she opened the door of the brownstone and, with a vehemence that startled the pigeons at the foot of the stone stairs, flung the coffee cup into the grass that flanked the steps of her walk-up, the hot liquid setting the birds to flight.

“What the hell!” came a familiar angry voice and it was at that moment, Katniss realized her miscalculation.

“Shit, Haymitch!” she sputtered as she hurtled down the stairs. She’d forgotten that the entrance to the super’s apartment was just beneath the stairs and she’d actually flung the cup of hot coffee practically at the front door of Haymitch Abernathy’s home.  “I’m so sorry!”

“Godammit!” he shouted as Katniss rounded the stone balustrade and assessed Haymitch’s appearance.  He generally appeared unkempt, lacking the motivation and companionship to ensure his grooming. But this morning, he was in even worse shape than normal now that his usually wrinkled pants were splattered with her coffee.  Katniss took out the paper towels that were inside with the cheese buns, frantically patting at the doused pants, the butter from the bread mingling with the cooling brown liquid.

Haymitch swatted at her hands.  “Stop!  You’re just making it worse!” he groused, the smell of stale alcohol wafting up together with the coffee to create an aura of choking, dense odors.

“I’m so sorry…” Katniss blathered as she balled the napkins, standing impotently before him.

 

“Ack…” he exclaimed again, shaking his pants leg. “Off with you, then.  Don’t you have a job to go to or some building to burn down?”

“Okay…okay…” Katniss said, walking away, mortification written all over her face.

“You know, you were a lot less insane before you broke up with that boy…” Haymitch called after her, followed by a profuse string of swear words as Katniss raced across the street to catch the bus to work.

**_Barney_ **

Despite the emotional upheavals of the morning, Katniss was able to finish the cheese buns on the bus before she arrived at the office where she worked at the Department of Forestry.  She preferred the outdoors and dreamed of the day when she could transfer out into the field, assigned to one of the many national parks situated around the state of Panem. But first she had to do her time, crunching numbers and pushing papers until an opening came up.

Even so, she couldn’t really complain. The atmosphere was relaxed and Katniss was good friends with most everyone in the office, especially the office manager, Johanna Mason, who grew up in the middle of forests as dense as the ones Katniss was used to. Johanna was also everything Katniss was not – brash, irreverent and as chaotic as a meteor-shower.  But she was as smart as anyone in the Department and didn’t take any nonsense from anyone.  She would not have allowed someone like Mrs. Mellark to mistreat her, nor would she have tolerated a boyfriend who would not stand up to such a miserable woman.  The thought of this alone dispelled any tender feelings Katniss might have grown towards Peeta while she was enjoying her favorite, home-cooked pastries.

Katniss grunted a hello to her colleagues, having long given up the veneer of politeness now that her anger had been reignited. Slamming her bag into the large drawer of her desk, she pulled the stack of forms and permits to the middle of her work area, fully intent on ignoring the entire office staff today in favor of finalizing her report and clearing off her to-do list for the weekend.

Johanna, setting down the telephone receiver as she completed a call, turned to peek over the divider to Katniss’ work area.  “You can’t be in a bad mood on your birthday, Brainless.”

“Yes I can,” Katniss growled. “Watch me.”

Johanna flipped her short, brown, hair, shaking out the stray strands as she tsked Katniss.  “What you need is a night out on the town.”

“No,” Katniss said with what she thought was finality.

“Come on, Kat. You have nothing to gain by sitting around, sucking your thumb like a big baby. Especially when your birthday falls on a Friday night!  You won’t get a birthday like that for another seven years,” she said as she pulled another sheaf of papers from a manila folder.

“Well, maybe I’ll be in the mood then,” she said, picking up the phone to cut off any further conversation.

The morning droned on quietly, as people moved about the office, completing their various tasks and fielding phone calls. Each time Katniss completed something on her to-do list, the thought of Peeta threatened to overwhelm her mood and she tamped it down by making another phone call, pulling another file, answering another email. She was so engrossed in her task that she failed to notice the snickers of laughter and excitement erupting around her until the strumming of music wafted over her work area.

_Happy, happy birthday baby_

_No I can’t call you my baby_

_Seems like years ago we met_

_On a day I can’t forget_

Katniss looked up and nearly jumped out of her chair and onto the green-colored industrial carpeting that covered the floor of her office.  At her desk was a giant, purple dinosaur, awkwardly holding a guitar that he had difficulty strumming. But the worse part of Barney’s performance was not the guitar, but the horribly, off-tune, raspy sound that passed for a singing voice coming from the small opening of the costumed mouth.

_‘Cause that’s when we fell in love_

_Do you remember the names we had for each other_

_You were my pretty, I was your baby_

_How could we say goodbye?_

Katniss strained, trying not to cover her ears before she stood up and rapped on the side of the creature’s head, interrupting the performance

“I know it’s you, Finnick. Stop singing! You sound like a dying animal!” Katniss shouted, blushing furiously as the five other people she shared the office with guffawed heartily at her embarrassment.  From behind her, Katniss could hear Johanna chortle loudest of all.

“I didn’t know you were dating a reptile, K!” she said between breathless laughter.

“Fuck you, Jo!” Katniss spat before tugging at the dinosaur’s snout.  “Get out of there, you!  You’re making a fool of yourself!”

“Oh, ay!” came the muffled shout as, with clumsy hands, he snapped the back of the hood and peeled the head off, revealing matted, sweaty, bronze colored hair that looked dark brown from the perspiration. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, it’s bloody hot in this thing!” he complained, pushing the suit off his shoulder, under which his t-shirt stuck to a fine, chiseled, torso. “Not one of my better ideas.”

“Your idea? Does Annie know you’re here?” Katniss hissed as her officemates returned to their work.

“Well, yes and no,” he said evasively. “Look, Peeta wanted me to bring you lunch and this little card but I thought how romantic it would be if, you know, you got a serenade with your meal. I told him you’d be putty in his hands,” he said proudly, his green eyes twinkling triumphantly.  “The suit was my idea.”

“It had to be. Peeta would never have come up with something like that,” she said, helping him out of the remaining padded outfit.

“Well, he isn’t quite as clever as me, is he?” he asked jovially, to which Katniss internally groaned, wondering if “clever” was quite the word to use to describe this get-up.

Johanna snorted, saying what Katniss was too timid to say. “Showing up in an office dressed as a kids’ show icon smacks a little of freakishly weird to me. There is nothing even remotely romantic about Barney.” She chuckled again.

“Oh, bug off, Jo!  At least I didn’t sing _“I love you, you love me…”_

“Shoot me now!” Jo cried out as Katniss listened, aghast at the depth of Finnick’s tone-deafness.

“Here, then!” he said in indignation, digging the card out of his jean pocket and pushing a bag into Katniss’ hands.  “Grilled chicken and pesto on a bed of spinach with balsamic vinaigrette on ciabatta bread.  And…” he pulled something else out of his back pocket, something that looked like a bottle of water, “Perrier!  Nothing but the best.”

“Well, I ah…” Katniss said, situating her lunch on her desk.

“Say nothing of it!” Finnick said, putting his hand up to quell any further comments. “Annie and I went through the same thing. The course of love and all…” he grabbed the towels that came with Katniss’ lunch and wiped his clammy forehead with them before waving them in front of her face for emphasis. “But you may want to make it up already with Peeta. Poor chap won’t get off my sofa, you know?  I’d like to get back to my own marital bliss, if you catch my meaning. Johanna!” he shifted gears abruptly, “You’ve cut your hair. Well, it could only get better after that last jag-fest you were sporting around on your head.  Nowhere else to go but up, I say.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” Johanna said in a menacing tone.

“Take it as you like. I know how slow you are to get to things,” he said, the honey smoothness of his voice a contrast to the teasing that was fast bringing Johanna to the point of violence, much to Finnick’s delight.  He spent a good deal of his time with Johanna, trying to rile her up and she responded by taking the bait every single time.

Katniss tuned out their banter as she opened the bag and found the card inside. It was sealed, which made her stomach flutter with excitement. She thought about Peeta’s crestfallen face, the lost look when she asked him to leave and feared to even touch the missive for fear it would weaken her resolve to stay away from him.

She lifted the flap of the envelope, prying it carefully so as not to tear the decorative paper. Inside was a card with a hand drawn white flower on the cover that looked so real, Katniss felt compelled to run her fingertip over the velveteen arrow-shaped petals until she reached the soft purple blots blooming at the stem.  It was her name-sake. _Sagittaria-sagittifolia_. The katniss flower.

Katniss took a deep breath, gripping the card, but not too hard, fearing that she would crush the image that she knew had been drawn by Peeta’s hand. Even had he not signed the telltale initials of _PM_ in the corner of the card, as he was in the habit of doing with all of his drawings, she would have recognized his style in the sweeping curves of the blooming flower, the life-like gentle fur along the flower’s stem, the bold outlines and vibrant purple and green.

The card brought Peeta home to her as nothing else had done since she asked him to leave and she longed to dig her phone out of the deepest pocket of her purse where she had relegated it and text him, to watch his face light up on the screen.  Anything to see him again, even if it hurt her to do it. She had been studious at ignoring the constant vibration and buzz of those first few days after their argument, when Peeta was desperately trying to communicate with her.  She was careful not to read his messages for fear that she would cower before the constant, desperate desire to see him.

“No, not like this,” she said to herself, clutching the card in her hand, debating on whether to just throw it out altogether, as she had the coffee. However, like the cheese buns, this had been made by his hand and she could no more destroy the thing he’d touched with those large, calloused fingers then she could harm anything that remotely reminded her of him. Pressing it into the side-pocket of her bag, the same one that held her phone, she put the card out of her mind, burrowing into the bakery bag for the meal she knew he’d made for her, trying to ignore the fact that his hands had held this also and not quiver from the very idea of it.

**_Cupcake_ **

Katniss was exhausted when she trudged up the stairs to her home. She’d turned down everyone’s offer to go out, using Johanna as an excuse for her sister and her sister as an excuse for Johanna so no one would have the bright idea of forcing her to leave her house for the evening.  Her anger had burned out by the time she’d made the journey from the office to her front door.  As she fished the keys out of her bag, she felt the heaviness in her heart spread out like a dark star, engulfing all of her happiness, leaving regret and sadness in its place.

She glanced at her bag as she turned the key, eying the phone with its unopened messages, the envelope with its unread script.  Her anger had been a shield, protecting her from the incredible longing for Peeta that she was finding so very hard to hold at bay. Pressing against the heavy door, she flipped on the lights, hanging her bag on the coat rack at the entrance.

It took her a moment but she sensed a difference in the air of her house, an aromatic warmth that had been absent ever since Peeta left.  Turning the corner, Katniss was shocked to find the table elegantly set for two, complete with unlit candles, cloth napkins with matching table cover and centerpiece made of fresh flowers. The lights of her appliances were on – the red blinking dot on the stovetop that indicated that the burners were not yet cool, though they were turned off. She walked to the oven and placed her palm flat against the door, feeling the heat radiating from inside.

Katniss trembled slightly, removing the lid of the pot on top of the stove, the smell a welcome assault on her senses.  Her eyes blurred with unshed tears when she recognized the aroma.  Her favorite.   _Lamb Stew._

“Damn you, Peeta Mellark,” she muttered, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

She sat down heavily at the table, glancing around her, remembering how it had been between them. She came home to find him in his apron, laboring happily over the stove as he experimented with new recipes or refined the ones he’d used a thousand times. Katniss didn’t cook, though she was more than capable of doing so.  She didn’t have to. He took care of her. That’s what they did for each other.

The emptiness of her little apartment rang hollow, like the vacuous reverberations of a church bell, swinging with no sound.  The emptiness rang out into her soul, latching on like a bat onto her heart. Her anger defeated, she was reduced to longing and pining for him and suddenly, his mother’s cruel words began to matter less than all the endearments he’d showered over her during their time together as lovers.

She grabbed her bag, pulling out her phone and the card, setting them both on the table.  She stared at them and knew, without a doubt, that if she read them, she might cave. She would cave. And yet, it mattered so much, the thing that had offended her so deeply:

_“Back in my day, women didn’t just go moving in with men without being married, no matter what the age,” Mrs. Mellark huffed as she lay the baked pasta on the heat pad in the middle of the table.  His brothers and fathers were settling in just as she picked up the spatula._

 

_“Mom, it’s another day and age,” Peeta retorted._

 

_“Yes, well, goodness. No wonder the divorce rate is so high!  These girls just give themselves away to the first guy who comes a-knockin’.” She sat down to serve the lasagna as Katniss felt her blood drain from her face.  “Your father was my first and only boyfriend.  These days, women expect to be treated with respect by a man after they’ve been with ten others before him.  It’s absurd.”_

 

_Katniss pursed her lips, looking over at Peeta, who was taking salad from a large, ceramic bowl. He always ate his salad first, before adding anything else to his plate, unlike Katniss, who liked her plate to be covered with food before she dug in.  She handed the dressing to him, giving him a meaningful look that he only responded to with a small smile and a shrug._

 

_“I know there are some girls, from certain social classes who use their bodies to capture a man’s attention so they can find a better situation for themselves,” Mrs. Mellark gave Katniss a saccharine smile as if she were gossiping with a peer and expecting an affirmative to her comment. However, Katniss was speechless because she’d known Mrs. Mellark for too long. She knew that she didn’t say things casually.  Katniss was from the poor side of town and her family had struggled financially all their lives, especially after her father died.  She knew what Mrs. Mellark was trying to say._

 

_“It’s up to a man to figure out what a woman really wants from him,” she directed this comment at Peeta, who paused in his work to glance at both his mother and Katniss. This would have been the time for him to say something, anything, to vindicate Katniss, to free his mother from the misconception that she could treat people however she liked without consequences._

 

_However, to Katniss’ disappointment, he turned from his mother’s comments to speak to his father, leaving Katniss alone to simmer in shame and anger._

 

Katniss closed her eyes.  It was all too much. She’d spent most of her life taking care of others, protecting her mother and sister as best she could. She was the oldest daughter and she embraced that role like a calling, especially when her mother became deeply depressed after her father’s death.  Katniss practically raised Prim. As soon as she was of age, she worked, even when she was in school.  While her friends and their families were on vacation, either traveling or at home, or were attending camp, she was bagging groceries, cleaning motels, anything she could do to make ends meet.

 

What she needed the most was loyalty.  And Peeta _was_ loyal! To a fault.  Except when it came to his mother.

 

“Damn you to hell, Peeta Mellark!” she swore again, feeling her phone vibrate in her bag.  She lifted it and saw the small yellow envelope blinking on the phone. It had Peeta’s name on the register. Peeta. He’d sent a message as if her thoughts had called him to her and a wave of nausea overtook her.  She missed him so much, it was a physical ache. She had received several text messages that she’d been resolute in ignoring.

 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she hissed at herself as she unlocked the screen and pressed the most recent message.

_I still have your key. I’m sorry.  I just can’t let your birthday go by without you knowing how much I love you.  I’m sorry I failed you. When I spoke to my mom, I realized it might be too little too late.  But I love you and I hope whatever you decide to do today, you are happy doing it.  I only wish that I was there to celebrate with you.  I know how much you love lamb stew._

 

_Happy birthday!_

 

_Peeta_

Katniss wiped her eyes. He’d spoken to her? To who? The witch?

 

She scrolled down the list of text messages, searching for his unopened ones. She started in chronological order with the one he’d sent the night he left:

 

_Katniss, I know I fucked up. Please, I’m sorry!  I’ll do whatever you want me to do if you just change your mind.  My mother was just mad that we were moving in together.  I am just so used to ignoring her.  I’ve had a lifetime of training on how to deal with her.   It was unfair to expect you to do the same.  Just answer the phone and let’s talk, okay?_

 

There were several more texts of this sort, and at least twenty missed calls begging her to answer, to respond to him in some way. But she hadn’t because the anger had been too raw, the sense of betrayal too deep. And Katniss had never been the forgiving kind.  The last message grabbed her attention and she scrolled through it, devouring the words.

 

_You’re not answering me. I understand.  I don’t deserve for you to speak to me, after I let you be mistreated for so long by my mother. I spoke to her, you know. I pulled in my father and brothers too, for good measure. I told her the effect her words had on you, and that she needed to figure out very quickly some way to accept you because if I you were to ever forgive me, I was never going to let you go again. I told them you were it, you were the one and they could either deal with it or not be a part of my life anymore.  And I mean it, Katniss. I’d turn my back on anyone for you. Forgive me. I swear, if you give me a chance, I’ll spend the rest of my life proving myself to you.  Please._

 

Katniss put her head on the ornately decorated table, her tears wetting the table cloth. Wasn’t this what she wanted?  Hadn’t she asked for precisely this?  And yet her anger was stubborn and would not dissipate easily.  It sat in the pit of her stomach like a bitter stone that would not budge.  She snatched up the letter and carefully opened the hand-drawn card inside.

 

_I would have gladly given up a limb to spend today with you. I had it all planned out - breakfast in bed, hand-delivered lunch, dinner and then a walk down to The Meadowlark to listen to live music.  And then I would have brought you home and made love to you until you were cross-eyed. But I messed up and now I’m going to miss out on the most important day of my life. Because it’s the day you were born. It’s the day that fate decreed that I would one day meet you and, at least for a little while, be the keeper of your love. No one makes me happier than you. You made everything better, more worthwhile._

 

_I thank the universe for you, for putting you in my path. And I thank you for the gift of your love._

 

_-PM_

 

_Ps - No matter what, send the word and I’ll always come for you._

 

With a sob, Katniss grabbed her phone and punched in the six terse words.  

 

_Then why aren’t you here already?_

 

She pressed the send button, tossing the phone onto the table and jumped up to take a shower, trying to take away the swollen, puffy look from her face.  She’d barely dressed and brushed out her hair when the doorbell rang.  She was barefoot and looked like a drowned rat but she didn’t care one bit. He’d seen her in worse shape. She flung the door open and there he stood, hastily dressed also, in worn blue jeans and a white t-shirt. It was somewhat wrinkled but clean. Katniss let her eyes roll down his figure, hungrily taking in the tousled mop of golden curls, the round, deep blue eyes that, even now, after having seen them for close to a lifetime, never failed to strike her with their vividness.  She took in his broad chest, the white box he held in his hand, her eyes pausing at his feet.

 

“Your socks don’t match,” she choked out by way of greeting as she stepped aside to let him in.

 

Peeta’s face, which had been a grimace of nervousness, broke into a beautiful smile of relief. Setting the box of cupcakes on the credenza near the door, he scooped her up and held her close to him, his nose buried in her hair. “Am I forgiven?” he asked hoarsely.

 

“For the socks?” Katniss said, trying to be light but having lost her breath at his close proximity.

 

“For everything,” he said, squeezing her harder.

 

Katniss felt the dam inside her burst, the one that would keep all her feelings from clambering over each other to escape.  “Oh, god, yes!” she exclaimed tearfully as his mouth came down on hers, crushing her lips.  Katniss made a small helpless noise at the back of her throat as he kissed her fiercely.

 

“Let...me...can...I?” Peeta babbled incoherently, to which Katniss nodded fiercely, leaping up to wrap her legs around his waist.  Pinning her lips beneath his, he made it as far as the couch before tumbling onto it with her.  

 

“I’ve missed you so much,” Peeta groaned as he pulled off his shirt, hissing with relief when she ran her lips over his neck, her tongue sliding down his chest to capture one of his nipples in her mouth.  He shivered as she laved him until the tips were hard peaks that she sucked on, eliciting a long moan of pleasure from him.

 

“Dammit, Katniss!” he said as he pulled back to yank off his pants and underwear, before kneeling down to help her take off her dress, flinging it across the room.  

 

Impatiently, Katniss pushed him back on to the floor, kissing him wildly as he buried his hands in her hair.  She had been without him for a week but it felt like she hadn’t seen with him in years. All the hurt and anger had expended itself, leaving behind a sense of acute gratitude that she would not have to figure out a way to live without him, a relief that translated into hunger for him, body and soul.

 

As he reached up to cup both her breasts, kneading them softly, she settled herself over him, sliding down his rock hard shaft.  They both sighed at the moment of union, exhaling as if breathing had long been denied them.  Katniss rolled over him, biting her lip as she felt him twitch inside of her.  She stared down at his face, eyes hooded, lips slightly parted in response to her movements. Changing the way he nestled inside of her, she said, with firm gentleness, “This doesn’t mean we don’t have a lot to talk about.”

 

His eyes widened slightly, but the corners of his lips tugged upwards into a half smile, his hand drifting from her breast to cup her face.  “We will, I promise.”

 

“Just not now,” she moaned as she sped up, leaning both of her hands on either side of his head as her hips slid up and down over him.

 

“No…” he gasped.  “Later…” he said, the word lost between their gasps as Katniss straightened to gain leverage.  He gripped her hips, guiding her movements, their speed increasing until, too soon, they were both wound as tightly as two cocked bows.  Katniss quivered first, expelling the taut energy of so much disappointment and hurt in a wave of release that made her shout Peeta’s name loudly into the air.  Peeta resisted as long as he could but was soon carried away in her wake and came in violent fits and jerks until both lay spent and supple in each other’s arms.

 

Peeta pet Katniss with long, gentle strokes, from her crown to her hips, as far as his arms could reach.  

 

"You really spoke to your mother?" she asked at length.

 

"The very next day. I've been trying to not rock the boat by not making an issue of things with mom,” he took a ragged breath and she could hear all his regret quavering in his shaky voice. “If I had thought for one minute that I could lose you over this, I’d have done something sooner.  I’m so sorry,” he squeezed her convulsively as he spoke.

 

“I did tell you,” she said quietly, remembering the discussions they’d had.

 

He shook his head, most likely, at himself. “I didn’t take it seriously enough. I thought we’d get through the way I've done all my life.”  He rolled her onto her back and stared down at her, running one large finger, recently marred by an oven burn, over the line of her jaw. “I’ll never do that again.”

 

She nodded at this, pulling him down for a kiss, not wanting to see the consternation on his face any longer.  He suddenly stiffened, as if remembering something.  He bound up from his spot on the floor and walked with long strides to the kitchen, returning a few moments later with the box he’d been holding when he first arrived.

 

“So what’s in there?” Katniss asked coyly, tugging at the thick curls at the back of Peeta’s head when he reclined next to her again, having missed the feel of those soft, threads of spun gold running through her fingers.

 

“Cupcakes. For dessert.  I frosted them to match the katniss flower on the card,” he said sheepishly.

 

Katniss opened the lid and looked inside to see four cupcakes. He had not exaggerated - the white and purple frosted flower was an uncanny replica of the flower on the card. Life-like. All drawn by his own hand.

 

“Oh, you outdid yourself, didn’t you?” Katniss laughed to hide the fact that she was now in tears.  

 

He swiped at one of the tear drops on her cheek with his thumb. “It was the least I could do on your special day.” he said as he tugged her hips closer to his. “Happy birthday, Katniss.”

 

She gave a slow smile of surprise at the clear evidence of the speed with which he recovered from their lovemaking pulsing against her belly. She thought, for all the pain of this last week and the cost of standing up for herself, that she didn’t regret at all the way things had turned out.  She set the cupcakes carefully on the end table and sank back into his arms, to lose herself a little longer in his love, the finest birthday gift he could have ever given her.

 

**Author's Note:**

> A million thanks to peetabreadgirl and katnissdoesnotfollowback for their betaing magic. Be sure to look for their birthday fics on tumblr and AO3! Happy Birthday, Girl on Fire!


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